


Hereafter, Together

by SimplyBritish, sweatersandchailattes



Category: Hetalia - Fandom
Genre: Angst?, DenNor, Gay, M/M, Soulmate AU, Writer's Block, barista, help me write, photographer, whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 05:16:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10757472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimplyBritish/pseuds/SimplyBritish, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweatersandchailattes/pseuds/sweatersandchailattes
Summary: I didn't fall in love with you. I walked into love with you, with my eyes wide open, choosing to take every step along the way. I do believe in fate and destiny, but I also believe we are only fated to do the things that we'd choose anyway. And I'd choose you;In a hundred lifetimes,In a hundred worlds,In any version of reality,I'd find you,And I'd choose you.





	Hereafter, Together

Lukas always loved the smell of rain. He enjoyed the way it plinked onto his front porch and gathered in pools of liquid glass around his feet. He liked how it smelled new, reviving, and brought colours that spread themselves across the sky. He watched the dewdrops in the morning, curved on blades of emerald silk, sturdy. The Norwegian could sense a storm gathering, getting closer. Perhaps, not a physical storm, but an emotional one. It smelled of pain and sorrow. It smelled of happiness and wonder, but most of all, it smelled like newly-printed Polaroid pictures, coffee, and laughter.   
  
It smelled like true life.  
\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lukas was half-asleep on his blue and white bedspread one lazy Saturday morning, soft Green Day adrift in the air around him. His window was closed but curtains thrown open invitingly as the sounds of gentle rain streaming down the glass. He was about to fall asleep, but sharp knocking jolted him awake. He sat up, rubbing his head and glaring at the door. “Who is it?” He grumbled. The incessant knocking nearly drove him mad, so he stood to go growl at the person on the other side. Lukas threw the door open but was stopped by his little brother, Emil, clutching a pair of Polaroid photographs with words written in Sharpie at the blank space. His brother’s deeply indigo eyes were fiery with determination.

“Hey, Luke. There’s this weird dude outside our door and he’s as wet as a cat in a dishwasher. He kept asking to come in so I guessed I would lead him to the guy who pays the bills.”

He rolled his eyes but took the photos. “And what are these?”

“He insisted on giving these to me for free. I think he’s some kind of posh photographer. Whatever. I don’t care.” Emil droned, looking over at his radio. “Ugh. That music is awful. Can you turn it off?”

Lukas rolled his own eyes in exasperation but pushed past his brother, hopping down the hardwood staircase and trotting into the foyer, opening the door. There the stranger stood, soaking wet and grinning like a complete maniac. The Norwegian could feel his jaw tighten with annoyance, but he forced a polite smile. The newcomer’s damp blonde hair clung to his forehead, and he grinned sheepishly. “Hello. What brings you here?”

“Um, I’m a photographer and I was going to photograph a tulip field but my car broke down and it’s raining. My camera’s battery is dead and so is my cell. Can you let me in?”

Lukas nearly snorted in amusement. “What’s your name?”

“Mathias. Mathias Køhler.” The young man said easily, extending a hand.

Lukas blinked down at it and took it, shaking it. “I’m Lukas Bondevik. Nice to meet you.” He said with a sincere smile. Emil was hopping down the steps, and he introduced the grey-haired Icelander. “This is Emil, my little brother. He was the one that opened the door.” Mathias saluted to the short boy, who flipped him off, dancing further into the house. Lukas simply looked on with irritation, but didn’t intervene. Emil blew a raspberry somewhere in the depths of the house, which only further provoked his older brother.

Mathias didn't seem to pay attention, staring at Lukas, as if memorizing the planes of his face. The Norwegian's face burned with a flush, dropping the other's intense azure gaze. "Um, but yeah, you can come in." He said, embarrassed as he opened the door wider, allowing his passage into the house. He could barely breathe. Mathias stepped beside him and into the home, and he shut the door behind him. His brother was off doing something in the kitchen, probably something stupidly obnoxious. Ah, little brothers. What else were they there for? He raked a hand through soft, nearly-white blonde hair in exhaustion.

"Emil, what are you doing?"

His brother answered almost instantly. "Your birthday is today, remember? You're eighteen now! I have to make a cake!" He blinked before remembering. Oh, yes. That's when everyone stops aging. Until they meet their soulmate. He wondered how long it would be before he resumed his backwards life with a new special someone. Mathias' grin nearly glowed. "Ah, you're eighteen. I'm twenty, but I still look like I'm eighteen. Life is strange, isn't it?" Lukas couldn't help but concur, nodding his head.

"It is. Emil is...how old are you, now?"

"I'm fifteen, you asswipe!"

"Yes. He's fifteen. So he hasn't hit that age yet.

" "...I'm about to not make you cake."

Mathias laughed, a light sound that made his heart warm. "Alright, alright, ladies, you're both pretty." Emil's face popped up over the counter as a wooden spoon flew toward Mathias, who got hit in the shoulder. He winced, and Lukas almost laughed, as well. After that, he helped towel off the newcomer's hair, and he grinned again, making Lukas nearly faint dead away on the floor. Emil hummed some classic rock from the kitchen that Lukas couldn't help bobbing his head to. Mathias hummed, glowing from under a mess of wet blonde hair. “Holy hell, Emil, I didn't know you liked Green Day.”

Emil huffed, taking a cake out of the oven and beginning to frost it. “Well, not every person you meet is predictable. And I don't particularly like Green Day; Lukas likes it.” When the cake was done, he set it on the dining table and pushed the two over to eat, Mathias insisting on helping light the candles and succeeding in making the entire house smell like burnt hair. Lukas had to cut the edges of the burned areas, so he looked like a mad scientist, but the visitor had refused to cut it any further, so he refrained from acting upon the urge to cut it shorter. “Happy birthday, you idiot,” Emil grumbled, and was promptly stabbed in the side by Mathias’ elbow. “What he meant to say was happy birthday, Lukas. Thanks for...well, everything.” Lukas tried to resist smiling but it was a futile effort. Mathias grinned at him and pressed a bunch of candles into the cake, letting Emil take the lighter.

The Norwegian raised a brow, but all the candles were sufficiently lit and ready. “How many candles did you put in here?”

“Uh...eighteen? I think?”

“Whatever, I don't care. Just let me blow the candles out.” He sighed, shutting his eyes tightly and wishing. I wish… After a wish had been made and candles extinguished, Lukas cut the cake with a suspiciously-sharp knife. Courtesy of Emil, probably to get back at Mathias. He shoveled off two slices of cake for Mathias and his little brother, letting them eat first. The newcomer insisted he take the first honorary birthday-boy bite. Rolling his eyes, he bit into a slice of vanilla cake so sweet, it would rot his teeth. But he didn't care...much. Mathias beamed at him and wolfed his cake down while Emil delicately picked at the cake, licking frosting off of his lip. Lukas finished almost as eagerly as Mathias.

When they both were full and the cake shredded to pieces, they cleaned their faces and sat down around the table, Emil falling asleep from boredom. Lukas leaned on his elbows, staring at Mathias. He didn't seem to mind, though. “So! Tell me about yourself.” Mathias said smoothly, as if he wasn't being melted into a puddle by the sheer force of Lukas’ icy glare.

He blinked but sat up. “Oh. Well, I work at a coffee shop and I'm Norwegian.”

“Cool! I'm Danish! Can I call you Norway?”

“No.”

“You can call me Denmark!”

“...The answer’s still no.”

Mathias pouted as if he was a child. “But still, we’re both Scandinavian.”

Emil snorted himself awake. “What?” Lukas just looked over at him with a slight frown. Emil shrugged and sat up, wiping a bit of dust from his cheek, blinking at the two of them. “What are you two doing?” Mathias beamed at him. “We’re getting to know each other! Since you invited me inside, I have to ask about each other.” Emil stared blankly at him. “Well, Lukas is Norwegian, I’m Icelandic…basically brothers born in different places with step-parents. It’s hard to describe.” Lukas nudged him, shooting him a glare. “Anyway, thanks for the cake and everything. It was sweet.” Mathias visibly flushed, turning a hundred shades of pink before managing to stuff his feelings into a metaphorical box. The Norwegian looked at him, a cool shade of cotton candy pink covering his cheekbones. Emil decided to break the ice by whipping out his wireless speaker. “Let’s dance, you two, because you seem so uptight and stiff. Dancing is fun and you’re boring!” Lukas chuckled and politely declined, whereas Mathias immediately shot up and tugged at Lukas’ hands.

Emil put on Lone Digger by Caravan Palace. The Norwegian briefly wondered if the music was slightly electro swing, but quickly forgot everything else after Mathias pulled him into their hardwood living room. As soon as the swing part began, Emil started to bop his head and tap his foot, but Mathias clearly went the extra mile, pulling Lukas around into a sort of jig, and Lukas instantly recognized it, laughing as they danced together. They were one in the same, one of a kind. One person, really.

_It’s time to get up and let go!_

Mathias shouted out the line, grinning madly as the two swung around the floor, glowing with happiness. Lukas couldn’t believe how they were doing this, but whatever it was, they were perfect. Like two perfectly made bracelets. They both laughed at the same time, Emil’s finger lingering over the pause button as he felt that it was getting a bit too mushy for him. Ah, young people. After the last bars of the song faded out with the cheerful but yet melancholic notes of the alto saxophone and clarinet, they slowed their dance to match. Emil finally paused the song as the Norwegian and the Dane stared at each other in complete wonder. They seemed to mirror the other’s thoughts.

Lukas spoke first, gulping down his breath. “How did we do that?”

“Dunno, but, hey, DJ Em, play it again!”

Emil scowled. “No, I’m going to play a song I want to play.”

The next song was Guillotine by Jon Bellion and Travis Mendes.

_Sleep on me, feel the rhythm in my chest; just breathe. I will stay so the lantern in your heart won’t fade._

Lukas leant against Mathias’ chest and sighed, exhausted from their fast dance a few minutes earlier.

_And if you have nightmares, we’ll dance on the bed. I know that you love me, love me, even when I lose my head; Guillotine…_

Both of their faces burned with a blush, but Mathias’ arms wrapped around Lukas’ waist, both relaxing into each other’s touches. Emil silently gagged but watched on affectionately, though, looking after his older brother.

_Kiss my lips, feel the rhythm of your heart and hips. I will break so that our castle that we built won’t cave._

Mathias sighed into Lukas’ hair, making him shiver.

_You fill me up, you fill me up; you set my soul ablaze…_

The both of them forcibly pulled away from each other as if struck by lightning. Emil giggled and shut the music off. “Figured that’d happen. Both of you, I have condemned to the guest room! I’m shoving my stuff on your bed so you can’t sleep anywhere but there. I’m calling Elizaveta and Mei!”

Lukas groaned, and Mathias perked up, arms still wrapped around him. “Oh, I know Elizaveta! She likes to write doujins with her Japanese friend or something. She’s very nice. Elizaveta runs a flower shop on the corner by my gallery.”

Lukas gaped but Mathias was quick to explain. “It’s not mine, just a friend of mine’s that let me apply to have my photos displayed and able to be bought.” Emil snickered. “Okay, flower boy.”


End file.
